


The Space Between

by glennjaminhow



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Divorce, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Kissing, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-09-30 04:34:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10153763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glennjaminhow/pseuds/glennjaminhow
Summary: Ben Wyatt's marriage is falling apart. Enter Leslie Knope, the true love of his life.





	1. Stay or Leave

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to BenjisCoolTimes and SakuraBlossomStorm for beta-ing this, as well as always being super supportive of my writing. I don't know what I would do without you two!

_August_

He’s on the road a lot.

Doesn’t get the chance to see her like he should. Spends too many nights in a row in shitty, rundown motel rooms with insects crawling up the walls as he tries to fall asleep. Tonight, it’s especially difficult because the AC unit is out. He fans himself with discarded spreadsheets and strips down to just his plaid boxers and guzzles six bottles of freezing cold water before the clock strikes nine. But Ben finds his mind flickering back to his home life regardless.

They live in Indianapolis, in this three bedroom house he snatched off the market a couple years back for an impeccable price. It’s only a ten minute drive to the hospital, and he’s close enough to his office for it to make an actual difference in gas mileage. But it’s overcrowded, and people brush against him if he chooses to walk from point A to B instead of drive; he has this thing about germs. And he doesn’t like to get too close to others in the first place.

But, today, he’s in Gary, Indiana, and he’s sure he’ll be somewhere else by the end of the week. He surfs through message boards and watches the six o’clock news and reads A Clash of Kings for the twelfth time. He microwaves soup, even though it’s eighty degrees outside, and he’s sweating in places he most definitely shouldn’t be sweating. He runs his fingers through his hair and sighs and wishes he were home. Wishes he could curl up in his own bed and sleep for days.

The second his cell phone rings, though, and Maggie’s name flashes across the screen, his chest tightens. His breathing constricts. And it’s not for the reasons those things should be happening. He should be thrilled to talk to his wife after a long day, but he doesn’t want to fight. Doesn’t feel like arguing. He doesn’t answer it the first time. He swallows repeatedly, fingers shaking as he accepts the second call. His heart hammers relentlessly, and why is it so hot in here?

“Hello?” he asks, clearing his throat.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” Maggie questions. “Are you still at City Hall?”

He shakes his head stupidly; he knows she can’t see it. “Oh, uh, no. I’m back at the motel.”

“I thought you said you’d call me when you got off?”

Shit. Did he promise that? He doesn’t remember saying that.

He scrubs a hand over his cheek. “Sorry. Busy day. I guess I forgot.”

“Ben,” she exhales into the phone, and he swears he stops breathing altogether. “What are we doing?”

He doesn’t know how to answer that. Is it a trick question? Usually, questions like these lead to arguments, and he can’t handle that right now. He doesn’t see Maggie enough as it is, and he feels like all they ever do is bicker. And banter. And lose their cool. He... Ben doesn’t want that anymore. But she’s glued to his fucking skin, etched in his brain in the best and worst ways possible, and he can’t decide whether he hates it or needs to swim very far away from it.

“Um...” he gets out, clearing his throat once more.

“I want to try again,” Maggie tells him.

It’s the type of vague honesty he used to love from her.

But this... This makes his vision blur.

He isn’t sure whether she’s referring to their relationship itself or having a baby. He guesses it’s both.

But the words stick to the roof of his mouth, and he finds himself nodding along with her pleads to come home so they can fuck and work things out.

“Okay. Yeah. Okay.”

~

_September_

He stops coming home after work.

Even though he’s been back in Indianapolis for thirteen days straight without any re-assignments, he chooses to stay at the office.

Ben only clocks out when he glances down at his watch and realizes it’s almost ten at night. He should go home. He should sink down into the mattress with Maggie, wrap his arms around her, and drift into an effortless sleep. Instead, he stares at the ceiling and wonders how the hell he ended up here and why this is still happening. And she rubs her belly like it’s bloated and texts him saying, “I think this is the one.” And it makes him fucking sick.

Not the baby. Or the possible, maybe baby. Never ever the baby.

He climbs out of his Saturn with his head hung low, eyes turned toward the ground. He melts into one of their two rocking chairs on their porch, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the first few latches of his shirt while rolling the sleeves up to his elbows. He puts his head in his hands. And he sits like this until his butt goes numb. Until his mind turns into a puddle of goo. Until mosquitos keep slurping at him like he’s their entrée. It’s only then that he gets up. He looks at his watch. It’s 10:47.

Fuck him.

He leaves everything by the door. His messenger bag. His suit jacket. His wallet and keys.

Ben grabs a bottle of water before ascending the stairs carefully and sips as he walks.

He creaks open their bedroom door and pokes his head inside.

“Hey,” she says, and, shit, the TV’s on, and she’s relaxed against the pillows.

Ben nods. “Hey.”

He showers. A couple years back, Maggie would get in with him regardless of what time it was. She’d follow him anywhere, and he’d do the same. They’d play footsies at the dinner table and hold hands while they speared pieces of each other’s chicken with their forks. They’d cuddle up in the middle of their bed for movie nights and end up jabbering playfully throughout the entire film. But he gets in without her, and he’s alright with that. He changes into sweatpants and a long sleeved shirt even though his skin burns because he can’t do that tonight.

But, the second his ass touches the mattress, Maggie’s clawing at his shirt.

Kissing his neck.

Whispering into his ear.

And he’s tired. He wants to go to bed.

But he finds himself palming her breasts and his tongue in her mouth.

He finds the comforter kicked to the floor.

“Put a baby inside of me,” she says, and he almost pushes her away.

Almost. But he doesn’t. Because he’s clinging to what could still be there. He remembers meeting Maggie at Carleton his freshman year of college. She was a junior. That mesmerized him. She’d take him to parties and hang all over him. The ghost of her lips, her actual lips, the lips he fell in love with, haunts him. Kills him. Why can’t they have what they used to?

“What’s wrong?” she questions, pulling away briefly.

Ben tugs her closer. Their mouths crash together, and he’s startled by the emptiness in his lungs. “Nothing.”

~

_October_

He stops having sex with her.

They’re at twenty-two days without touching each other, and Ben can feel her slipping away, but he doesn’t do anything to stop it.

He’s on the road too much as it is.

Things fall apart. It’s natural. That’s what he keeps telling himself.

But the day he gets back from Bloomington, she’s throwing up. He hears the retching while he kicks off his shoes. Ben grabs a sleeve of Club Crackers from the cabinet and a bottle of Sprite, hauling his exhausted body up the stairs. He knocks on the bathroom door. She tells him to come in, so he does. Her back’s sweaty as he kneads the soft flesh around her spine. He doesn’t say anything, and neither does she. Eventually, she collapses against him.

“I think it worked this time,” she whispers.

He should kiss her. Hard. Passionately. He should be elated and trapped in some dream world where people finally get what they want. They’ve tried so hard for a baby. Ben looks at the three pregnancy tests lined up near the sink as she recounts her last few days without him. With their baby. Because there’s three sets of single pink lines. He coughs. Rubs the back of his neck.

Pregnant.

Pregnant.

They’re pregnant.

“I never thought it would happen,” Maggie tells him. She rubs her fingers up and down his arm. Traces patterns. This used to be the way she’d comfort him after a bad test or a bad day at work or a bad anxiety attack. She knows how to ground him perfectly. But he doesn’t want her to do the grounding. Can feel himself slowly disappearing and turning into dust. And he rubs her stomach. The stomach his baby’s living in. Their baby. They created a life. Together.

Ben gulps. “Me either.”

He holds the second pregnancy test closer and inspects the lines.

“What? Are you not wearing your contacts or something?”

He shakes his head and wants to shrink away from her skin touching his.

And why the actual fuck does he feel like this?

She pressured him. She pressured him so hard and for so long. Fourteen months. That’s how long it’s been, and each month has been worse than the last. He looks at her, and he doesn’t want to smile. He doesn’t want to laugh. And he hates that it’s come to this and that everything is spinning off its axis. Fuck. Her giggles used to erupt a fire in him, a warm and delicate fire he never wanted to vanish. He wanted to make her giggle last for their rest of their lives.

“N-No,” he grates out. “I’m just...”

“Surprised? I told we’d get this thing done, baby.”

And she’s grinning brightly. Her used to love to tuck those light brown strands behind her ears and cup his hands gently around her face to kiss her.

That’s what he should be doing right now.

But the thought of touching her sends shivers down his spine.

“And it’s right in time for Halloween announcement pictures. They’re going to be so cute!”

Ben just bites his lower lip.

~

_November_

He catches her.

For the third time in their relationship.

The first time, he’s twenty and shit faced and thinks he’s just hallucinating. Because his beautiful girlfriend would never kiss another man. But he sees her bare ass moving up and down. Up and down. Up and down. And he closes the door without another word. He doesn’t bring it to her attention because, honestly, it’s some stupid frat party, and he’s drunk as hell anyway, and he isn’t one hundred percent certain it’s real.

The second time, it’s very real. He’s twenty-eight and catches her making out with her boss Tucker at the park. Ben’s walking Lucy, their old golden retriever, when he sees their lips touch. And it’s not one of those simple “friend kisses” she tried to convince him of. And then she admits it. She admits she’s been fucking Tucker on and off for two years, and he’s destroyed. Nearly loses it. Almost packs his bags and walks away for good. But she convinces him to stay, and he crumples like a wadded up piece of paper. He always does. Doesn’t have a backbone.

The third time, it’s the day before he turns thirty-five.

And it’s right this very moment.

Pregnant. She’s pregnant. But Tucker, of all the fucking people she could be fucking, is on his side of the bed eating her out.

His bed. His sheets. He fucking paid for this bed and these sheets.

“Ben! This isn’t what it looks like!” Maggie screams as she scrambles to cover her breasts.

He storms out of the room.

She’s pregnant. She’s pregnant.

With his baby.

Or maybe it’s not his baby?

He doesn’t even know anymore. Fuck it. Who cares?

But he sinks against the refrigerator once he makes it down stairs. His legs tremble. His whole body quakes. He swallows his nausea and runs his fingers through his hair and buries his face in his knees. Shit. Holy shit. Breathe. And, seriously, in this house? Is there nowhere better to get the shit fucked out of her?

“You don’t even touch me anymore, Ben,” he remembers her saying a few months ago. “Why won’t you touch me, honey?”

He gulps. Sweat drips into his eyes.

A couple tears stream down his cheeks.

“Ben, hey,” she tries, kneeling down in front of him.

She places her hand on his shin, but he shrugs her away.

“Is the baby mine?” he somehow manages to ask. His voice is mushy to his ears.

Maggie immediately nods. “Of course.”

“Please don’t lie to me.”

But she holds her ground. “This... This is a one time thing, okay? I swear. It’s just... It’s just you never want to be with me anymore, Ben, and I’m pregnant. With our baby. I wanted someone to take care of me for once.”

“Take care of you?” he questions, and anger bubbles up his throat. His lungs flame out. His eyes grow wide. “You were sick for five fucking days last week, and who stayed with you? Because I can sure as shit guarantee it wasn’t Tucker.”

“This is a different kind of care, and you know it.”

“Fuck you,” he whispers. “Fuck you. I’m done.”

~

_December_

He isn’t done.

Apparently, not even close.

He’s lying on their couch and sweating his ass off even though it’s the middle of December. Maggie fusses and tells her boss she won’t be in today, that her husband’s not feeling well, but he thinks it’s just an excuse. She claims she's been trying to “stay on the straight and narrow” (last night, she proclaimed that she hadn’t fucked Tucker since he caught them doing it the last time; Ben honestly wonders if he’s supposed to be proud of her). But he doesn’t want her to stay.

Ben almost fled to a hotel around two AM when he couldn’t get his brain to shut up for more than three seconds at a time.

“Okay, what can I do?” she asks, taking a seat on the edge of the sofa.

She cards her fingers through his hair, and he flinches.

“Nothing,” he tells her with zero inflection in his voice. “I don’t want to get you sick.”

“Don’t worry about me or the baby, Ben. We'll be fine.”

He doesn’t even know how or why he’s still here. Because it’s been two months since they found out she’s pregnant and one month since he found her fucking screwing someone else in their bedroom, but he’s here. He doesn’t understand himself. Should’ve packed his bags and cut his losses from the get go. But now he isn’t sure of anything, except that he’s irritated constantly and had to beg his boss to send him to a stupid, snotty town called Eagleton last week.

Ben hasn’t even slept in that room since his unfortunate discovery.

And, seriously, why the fuck is he still in this house clinging on to nothing?

He goes to sit up, but Maggie stops him gently. “Lay there. Relax.”

“Stop,” he says. “Please... Just leave me alone.”

“What’s going on now?”

And she rubs that slight bump; it makes him even queasier.

But Ben rolls on to his other side and smushes his face in the cushion, even though his nose is dripping.

“You can’t hide forever, honey. I know things have been... rough the last couple months, but we have to try to fix this. Don’t you want to make things work?”

Nope.

Nope nope nope.

He gets exactly what she’s trying to do here, and he’s tired of it. Exhausted of her antics. Why does she think he’s not entirely there, like she can control his every fucking move? But he guesses that’s completely true because, hello, he’s sprawled out on this couch. She can have it all. The house. The car. This couch. He doesn’t give a shit. But he wants to get out of this situation so badly it forces him to spring into action.

“What’re you doing?” she questions as he gets to his feet.

And Ben doesn’t listen. Doesn’t stop, not even when she’s crying. She’s sobbing and begging for him to stop packing his duffle bag. He doesn’t take much. A few sets of clothes and his toiletries and his laptop. His heart fucking actually hurts, and he doesn’t want to do this to her, to them, to the baby, but he can’t live like this anymore, and it’s too hard to pretend.

So, he leaves. Walks out the front door and doesn’t bother glancing behind him.

~

_January_

He’s in Pawnee.

It’s this strange town inhabited largely by raccoons and vastly oversized people chugging “child sized sodas” right after the New Year.

He gets a tour of the Parks and Recreation office, which takes all of thirty seconds before this guy with a thick mustache proclaims there’s nothing more to see. Ben agrees. There is nothing to see. And then he gets a “this building has feelings” lecture from this tiny lady with a very loud mouth and bright, sun colored hair. Buildings don’t have feelings, and that statement doesn’t save the Parks Department from being slashed to ribbons.

“Ben Wyatt!” Chris, his partner in all auditing related crimes, exclaims. “Time to roll out!”

Gross. No. The Pawnee Super Suits reeks of raw sewage, and he’s already been at war with a rat in his bathtub.

Said rat nibbled at his thirty-five dollar, plushy grey towel.

He tries not to be bitter about it.

“I’ll catch up with you later. I have a few more numbers to crunch.”

“But they’re screening Hope Floats in the lobby! Missing that would be a huge tragedy.”

Emphasis on the word “huge.”

Chris likes to emphasize a lot.

Ben sighs. “I’ll try to be back by then, okay?”

His partner nods and rambles his overflowingly emotional goodbyes, and Ben wonders why he has to babysit a man who’s almost ten years older than him.

“Well well well. Still working, Ice Clown?”

And Ben immediately drops his blue pen.

It’s Leslie Knope, Deputy Director of the Parks and Recreation Department.

His frown almost twitches to a grin, but he stops himself.

And then he frowns for real.

“Um –” he starts.

“Alta Vista,” Leslie states. “It’s a wonderful thing. Said search engine also beautifully painted me a picture that you’re incredibly unqualified for this job.”

He’s getting ready to argue the shit out of her, to defend his idiotic eighteen year old self’s mistakes, but then his cell phone rings.

It’s Maggie.

His stomach drops to his toes.

“You okay? You just got really pale,” he hears Leslie say. “Are you one of those people who faints easily? You look like a person who faints easily.”

But his tongue won’t work, and his fingers twitch.

He breathes out when the shrill ring goes away and switches it to vibrate.

But Maggie’s name appears a few seconds later, and Ben rubs the back of his neck.

“How about some coffee?” Leslie offers. “I’m gonna go get you some coffee.”

“No, I’m fine,” he tells her, standing up and straightening his tie. “I’m... sorry about earlier, though.”

She scoffs. “Well, you pose a threat to my department, so of course I’m going to get feisty.”

He almost goes into the whole, “I didn’t cause these issues, Miss Knope; your government did,” spiel again, but that clearly doesn’t work with this woman.

“Naturally,” he says, trying hard not to sound sarcastic; he has a bad habit of doing that.

And then his fucking office phone rings, and he doesn’t know how Maggie knows where he is, but, deep in his gut, it doesn’t surprise him.

“You should probably answer that. Seems pretty important,” Leslie says.

He instantly shakes his head. “Nah. Wanna go grab a beer?”

~

_February_

He tries not to talk to her.

They need to work this out amicably with lawyers present.

His lawyer sent the papers to her a couple weeks ago, but he hasn’t heard anything back.

He’s done playing games. He decided that once and for all.

And he feels amazing about it. Smiles a lot more than he’s used to. Stays in Pawnee, which is an awfully odd town with somewhat eerily strange people.

Doesn’t have a panic attack every other night, which is a huge plus.

Ben’s in Leslie Knope’s office going over the latest budget reports when his phone rings. It’s Maggie.

He ignores it.

“Is it her?” Leslie questions. “Do you want me to kick her ass?”

She isn’t being serious, but something tells him this tiny, fiery, passionate woman could kick the living shit out of Maggie.

Not that he wants her to.

Definitely not. He’s never been like that.

And, yes, Leslie knows almost all of his situation with Maggie. He told her. He spilled the beans over a very late night cup of coffee. His nerves were wrecked, and he was so anxious to be in her presence that it poured out of him. By the time he unloaded his baggage on this beautiful, unsuspecting lady, Leslie scooched to his side of the booth and hugged him softly. He’s never met anyone like her in his entire life, and he can’t help but feel... something for her.

But the fact that he can muster a chuckle helps so much. He’s back to sleeping eight hours a night instead of two or twelve. He eats and tries hard to socialize because he’s so tired of being cooped up. He grabs coffee or pizza or ice cream with Leslie a couple times a week, and he downloads the Star Wars movies on his laptop for the two of them to watch during lunch. He’s trying to better himself. He’s trying to pull himself out of such a massive rut.

And, while it doesn’t excuse what’s happening with Maggie, he buys the baby clothes. He has plans to buy a small house, most likely here in Pawnee or maybe a neighboring town like Snerling to get the nursery ready (Leslie helps him look at properties online). The baby isn't due until July, but Ben Wyatt likes plans. He always has. He’d plan his entire life from start to finish if he could. But what’s going on between him and Maggie is nowhere near the baby’s fault. He’s always wanted kids. It’s why they tried so hard to glue themselves together for each other’s sake for fourteen plus months. They both want kids so badly.

He wants split custody, but he doubts Maggie feels the same. Maggie is probably going to fight him tooth and nail over every aspect of this divorce, but who cares? He’s sure she’s back to fucking Tucker anyway. She has to learn she can’t just get whatever she wants out of him, and he’s been far too submissive for seventeen years.

And it stings whenever he thinks that way, so he tries not to. Leslie tells him he’s too pessimistic and should try to look on the bright side every once and a while.

But then his phone rings, and it won’t stop. It just keeps blaring in his ear and then vibrating in his slacks. Normally, Maggie stops after the fifth time if she can’t get ahold of him, but it’s time number eight, and now he’s honestly curious.

He leaves Leslie’s office and walks down the hall, pacing back and forth. “Hello?”

“I lost it...” he hears, and Maggie’s full on sobbing. “I lost the baby...”

Ben drops the phone and sinks against the wall.

~

_March_

He gives the baby clothes away.

And continues living at the Pawnee Super Suites.

Most importantly, he stops talking to Maggie almost altogether.

Sure, there’s no way to just point-blank stop communicating with the woman he spent seventeen years of his life with, but this is a good start. She’s up to date on signing the papers, but Ben gets this punch in his gut every single time he thinks about the baby. He’s lost way too much sleep over him or her and what he or she could’ve been. He knows he and Maggie would’ve made it work. She may be something else, but she wouldn’t be a bad mother by any means.

And it’s part of the reason he feels so... awful now.

Maggie doesn’t deserve this. He can’t even count how many times he’s nearly called her, to grieve with her, to mourn the loss of their baby. But then he tells himself that, chances are, it was roughly a fifty-fifty shot that the baby was even his in the first place, especially once Maggie admitted after losing it that she had been sleeping with Tucker on and off for five years. But, even with their garbage and mistakes, Ben doesn’t want her to suffer.

Their marriage failing is both their faults.

It sucks to even process that. He wants to say that she cheated on him countless times, but he isn’t exactly the most open guy. It takes a lot to push him too far, and he has never been one for communication. There’s been weeks where he’s shut her out, where he doesn’t speak to her or even glance in her direction, and they were fucking living in the same house.

But... Leslie.

She’s across the booth from him at JJ’s Diner, giggling contently and rubbing her thumb over his knuckles.

There’s Leslie, who’s comforted him over the loss of the baby.

Maggie’s baby.

Possibly not even his baby. But she’s still here and still understands it hurts.

She doesn’t pass judgment. Doesn’t try to blame everything on Maggie. Doesn’t blame him.

“You doing alright?” she questions. She’s always so... talkative, but he loves that about her. He doesn’t feel like he has to close the gaps with unwanted conversation. “Do you want to head back? You look really tired. Are you not sleeping again?”

She might be talking about the recent nightmares. Or the panic attacks. He hasn’t exactly been the best version of himself lately.

He shrugs. “I’m okay.”

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Ben nods and grins briefly. “I know. Thanks. I’m just... I dunno...”

“Sad? Scared?”

“Uh, probably a bit of both. I... It feels weird without her, y’know? Without Maggie.”

Even with all of their self-destructive tendencies, this is the woman he’s spent half his life with. He can’t erase that. Doesn’t exactly want to erase it. He wants to pick apart the bad moments and dissect them, but he doesn’t ever want to lose those good memories. And it’s strange. He never envisioned himself being thirty-five and getting divorced. But, then again, there was a point in his life after Ice Town that he was positive no one could love him.

And Maggie did. Does. She does love him.

He loves her too, but just... not anymore. Not in the way he should.

“You spent seventeen years with her, Ben. It’s okay for things to be off kilter. But what’s important is that you’re trying.”

His eyebrows furrow. “Trying?”

Leslie grabs his hand, and he tries not to fall apart at the seams. “You’re trying to move on and make your life better. It wasn’t a healthy situation, and you’ve both gone through a lot. But knowing that things aren't working and making changes is a good thing.”

“I don’t really like change,” he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh, believe me, I know. I’ve only known you for a couple of months, and that much is painfully clear.”

He smiles. “Hey, I’m not that bad.”

“Darling Benjamin, you almost freaked out over the vending machine not having Pepsi anymore.”

“What kind of vending machine doesn’t have Pepsi? It doesn't make any sense.”

Leslie laughs, and, good lord, he could listen to that sound all day everyday. “You’ll be fine, okay? And I’ll be there every step of the way. I mean, um, if you want, of course...”

Ben kisses the back of her hand; she’s so soft and pretty. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! :)


	2. Crash Into Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A massively huge thank you to Benjis-Cool-Times and SakuraBlossomStorm for beta-ing this for me! You both are the best, and I appreciate you to the moon and back!

_April_

He stays in Pawnee.

It’s a big step for him, but the idea of even looking Maggie in the eyes at this point is tough to stomach. He knows he should be yearning for her, pining for the sense of normalcy. They lost their baby. Or, well, she lost _a_ baby. He still isn’t sure the baby was his in the first place, but, then again, there’s no way of ever telling. So, he tries to make positive changes out of his situation.

He moves in with April and Andy, a very scary lady and a rather large man-child he knows from City Hall. He sells most of his belongings and lodges himself in one bedroom of their cluttered, disastrous house. He doesn’t bother putting things in a storage unit because this is about starting over. Ben keeps what’s most important and valued to him; the rest is meaningless. He ends up tossing tons of kitchen supplies and thirty-six years worth of hoarded reading materials.

But he doesn’t throw away the photo albums from his and Maggie’s life together. He can’t do that yet. He isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to.

Maggie was such a huge part of his life. He fell in love with her at eighteen. He married her at twenty-three. He moved four times before settling in Indianapolis for her job. He bought her a house. He finished their basement and restored the downstairs bathroom himself. He installed the new fridge and stove. There’s so many markings of him in that place, markings he can never erase. But he guesses it doesn’t matter now. Maggie gets the house in the divorce anyway.

Leslie tells him not to be bitter about it, but it’s hard not to be sour about the whole fiasco.

He was in love with Maggie. So heart-shatteringly in love with her. He gave up so much for her and loved her with everything he had inside of him. But then it stopped. She yanked clothes off another man. Kissed him with the same lips Ben’d been kissing for years and years before. Touched his chest and neck and hair and every fucking part of him.

And these feelings... They won’t stop.

He wants this. He wants this divorce.

So why can’t he get over her?

Ben sighs and drops the eighth cardboard box down on his bare mattress. He rubs his forehead with dirty fingers. His hands shake.

“Where do you want this thingy, boss?” Andy questions. He’s shirtless and barefoot and only wearing holey blue boxers, despite the fact that it’s two in the afternoon. And, seriously, he’s also holding his freaking flat screen TV. There are smudges all over the front, and is that... gum in the upper right corner?

Ben exhales. “Right there is fine,” he says, motioning to the top of his dresser.

But Andy missteps and accidentally trips over the box April put right in front of the door.

The TV drops out of Andy’s grasp and falls to the floor. He tries not to notice that the screen is shattered.

“Oops! Sorry, Ben!”

Ben bites his lower lip and tries to hold himself together.

~

_May_

He’s dying.

It’s the end of May, and their AC is out. He’s spent the majority of the afternoon sprawled out in bed in only his underwear because moving too far or much is quite murdersome. Is that even a word? No, right?

It’s so bad that he leaves the house around eight, somehow mustering the energy to shower for the fifth time before pulling on jeans and a t-shirt. He doesn’t bother fixing his hair. He’s only leaving to get air anyway.

He hates the weekends.

Ben spends way too much time cooped up in his head during these days. April and Andy invite him out, but he doubts they want a guy like him to mess up their idea of a good time. He’s not a big drinker, partier, video gamer, and not even that big of a talker, so he figures it’s more of an empty offer. He doesn’t take it personally. Instead, he watches movies and reads message boards and catches up on the sleep he misses during the week.

Except he hasn’t really been sleeping.

He’s still friends with Maggie on Facebook. And he’s developed this new thing where he compulsively checks her statuses and updates every minute he can. He sees her new manicure. He sees that she’s having drinks with her girl friends. He sees that she’s kissing other guys. More importantly, he sees that nothing’s changed.

Nothing’s changed.

But everything about his life has changed.

He doesn’t live in his house anymore. Doesn’t drive his SUV anymore. Doesn’t see their joint acquaintances anymore. Doesn’t wake up next to his wife anymore.

Ben goes back and forth everyday between wishing he still had her and wishing she’d never existed.

He gets into his Saturn and lets the fresh, cool AC wash over him. He runs his hands through his damp hair and counts by eighteens. He puts his car in drive and heads off into the night. He ends up at Ramsett Park, the very same place he picked up trash with Leslie last week. The same place he’s been multiple times since he officially moved to Pawnee because Leslie loves it so much.

So, really, it’s not necessarily a surprise when he finds said Leslie Knope sitting on the furthest swing from the left. It’s her swing. She always sits there.

Ben plops down in the one next to her, kicking at the rocks with his shoes.

“You okay?” she questions softly without even looking in his direction.

So, yeah, maybe they’ve met here a few times before.

Twelve to be exact.

He shrugs. “I’ve had better days. April and Andy’s AC is out.”

“Don’t you mean your AC is out?”

Ben finds himself shrugging again. He doesn’t feel like he lives there.

He doesn’t feel like he belongs anywhere at this point.

Ben hangs his head instead of glancing over at the beautiful lady swinging slightly beside him.

“Hey,” Leslie says, hopping to her feet. “Let’s go get some waffles. My treat.”

She holds out her hand, and he latches on tightly.

~

_June_

He’s fairly certain (roughly 78% sure) he can’t do this anymore.

“Okay, Wyatt,” Leslie says abruptly, shaking him from his trance. “Why the hell are you still dressed like that?”

Ben blinks. “Umm...”

She brushes his hair from his forehead, and he inhales sharply. Too sharply. Her fingers are smooth and warm against his skin. He wishes that touch would last, linger just a little bit longer. He frowns when she pulls away.

“Get into your jammies, Benji. You’ll be more comfortable that way.”

Benji? Jammies? Changing here? In her house?

Fuck, he brought a duffle bag and everything.

Ben’s heart immediately starts beating. And beating. And beating.

The air in the room grows unbearably thick.

He shouldn’t be here. He should leave.

Ben wipes his clammy hands on his black slacks. Bites his tongue. Ignores her pleading, gorgeous stare.

“Are you okay?” she asks, carefully taking a seat on the middle cushion of her couch.

Her couch. Because they’re totally in her house. And he’s over here for a movie and pizza night. With her. Again.

Ben shakes his head. “I... I gotta g-go,” he somehow manages to grate out.

He’s putting his shoes back on when Leslie stops him, placing her palm right against his chest.

“Okay. Whoa. You need to calm down.”

Calm down? There is no calming down.

He’s always been told he worries too much. When he was only sixteen, he developed an incredibly painful ulcer from the anxiety constantly rampaging through him full force. Sixteen year olds definitely shouldn’t have ulcers. Well, really, no one should because they suck ass.

But there’s no calming down when... Fuck, she’s so fucking beautiful.

He can’t. He isn’t divorced yet. He isn’t single. He isn’t what she wants him to be. He isn’t what she needs him to be.

Ben tells himself over and over and over again that he can’t like her. Doesn’t like her. Has no interest in being with her. But even being in Leslie’s general vicinity makes his legs tremble, his heart bounce excitedly, his lungs ache to be in her presence. She’s on his mind all the fucking time. He wants to touch her and kiss her skin and hold her hand and wrap her up in his arms. He wants to bury himself inside of her and hold on to her until the world ceases to exist.

And he knows he shouldn’t feel that way. Knows it with everything in him.

This isn’t right. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

The divorce isn’t finalized. And, even then, he’s too big of a wreck to hold himself together for more than five seconds at a time. Can’t be trusted. Definitely can’t be trusted. Because he still has these panic attacks when he thinks about being alone for the rest of his life. Because he still gets glimpses of what his life could’ve and should’ve been if he had stayed with Maggie. Because he still can’t fucking sleep. Because nothing besides Leslie feels right anymore.

He isn’t himself. Hasn’t been in forever.

But he finds bites and pieces of who he used to be scattered all over the place, the ones he left behind decades ago, every time he’s with Leslie.

“L-Leslie,” he stammers, tears pooling in his eyes. “I can’t... I just can’t.”

And, in an instant, Leslie’s arms are around his waist, pulling him close. “Shh... You’re right where you’re supposed to be, okay? Everything’s okay.”

~

_July_

He isn’t sure how much longer he can stand it.

“Happy birthday, America!” Leslie exclaims.

But she has a sparkler in her hand, so Ben gulps and steers clear for the moment, even though every fiber of his being wants him to soak in as much of her wonderfulness as possible.

“It is indeed a very happy birthday,” Ron Swanson comments from beside Ben. He’s on his eighth rack of ribs and eyeing the ones Andy’s currently grilling.

Ben shuffles his feet and scratches the back of his neck.

He thinks about last Fourth of July. He’d been woken up early to have sex with Maggie while she was ovulating. He was forced to exchange in conversations with Maggie’s parents, who, for whatever reason, never took a liking to him. He ended the night, guess what, fucking Maggie again and again, even though every part of him wanted to push her away. To scream that enough was enough and something had to give.

But now everything’s changed.

And he still can’t make himself take a chance.

Leslie’s grinning and jabbering the hours away. She’s the life of the small party they’re having in the backyard of April and Andy’s place. Or, well, he sort of guesses it is his place too, especially since he’s paid seven months extra in rent. They are now the proud owners of a new fifty gallon fish (with just a bunch of jelly beans floating in the murky water and zero fish), a brand new sixty inch flat screen TV, and three waterbeds.

He should be more assertive.

“Let’s eat already,” Tom whines. “My neck can’t be exposed to this intense moonlight for too long.”

Ben’s eyebrows furrow. “Your neck?”

They form a line leading up to the trail of food. Ben doesn’t grab much. Just a hamburger and some grapes and chips. Everyone else piles their paper plates a mile high, especially Ron and Andy. He takes a seat in an old lawn chair that creaks with each movement. He nibbles on the grapes while Leslie passionately explains how America became the lovely nation it is today.

Perfect.

He doesn’t know how or why, but Leslie Knope is so amazingly perfect.

The fireworks start right as the sun sets. Ron lights off the display they each chipped in fifty dollars for (or, well, $150 in his case; he really should be more assertive). Ben tilts his head back and watches the colors erupt and fade away. Erupt and fade away. It’s so calming, so serene even with the loud noises that he almost drifts off to sleep.

Until someone tiny plops into his lap.

Ben doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t tense up beneath her.

And Leslie definitely doesn’t show signs of disagreement when he places a hand on her hip, rubbing it gently.

His Adam’s apple bobs, and he bites his lower lip. He tries to make his heart not beat wickedly out of his chest.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” she whispers.

Ben nods, even though she can’t see him. “They really are.”

For the rest of the show, Ben doesn’t bother looking back up at the sky.

And, later on, when she kisses him tenderly in the privacy of his bedroom, he’s 120 percent sure Leslie Knope is the other half of his heart.

~

_August_

He gets a phone call from his lawyer.

The divorce is finalized.

He breathes out a sigh of relief and wraps himself tighter around Leslie, who’s still somehow asleep on this sunny Saturday afternoon. He peppers her bare shoulder with kisses until she stirs and rolls over. She hides her face in his chest and doesn’t even mention that it’s his turn to buy her JJs. She’s so adorable when she’s this drowsy and cutely quiet. She’s exactly what he needs. And he’s pretty sure, honestly, that she’s all he’s ever needed.

“Who was that?” she slurs, yawning right after.

He kisses her forehead. “My lawyer. It’s done.”

“So I can drop kick Maggie into the sun without any consequences now?”

He chuckles and finds himself kissing her again and again. “No, goofball. It just means that it’s all over.”

“Are you okay?”

“Of course, love. How about some breakfast?”

She sits up as he plants his feet on the Lego-ish hell she calls her bedroom floor. “No, Ben. Wait,” she says, and he stops. “Are you seriously okay?”

Ben grins and leans back over the mattress to kiss her lips once more. “I’m very okay, babydoll.”

And it’s the truth. He hasn’t felt this great in... Well, forever really. There’s something so magical, so pure, about Leslie that makes his heart skip actual beats. This is easily the sappiest he’s ever been in his life, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is that he’s spending more and more time with the lovely Leslie Knope everyday. He comes over after work, and they make out on her couch and cook dinner together and binge watch TV shows and have wondrous sex and fall asleep in each other’s arms almost every night.

“I’m not rushing you, am I?” Leslie questions as Ben pulls out jeans and a white undershirt. “I mean, I know this is a weird time for you, and I don’t want to make it anymore difficult than it already is.”

Ben stops and turns around, leaning against the dresser (because, yes, he definitely has some clothes stored over here for, you know, practicality and such). “You’re not rushing me. I swear.”

“You still aren’t sleeping,” she points out.

He shrugs. “It’s getting better. I got almost four hours last night.”

“Are you sure there’s nothing else bothering you?” she asks. “I’m being serious, Ben. I don’t want to get you into something you’re not ready for.”

“There’s nothing wrong, Les. I’m still not sleeping that well, but I’m working on it. It’s just taking more time than I thought.”

Leslie stands up, and he gulps. Because she’s very much naked on this glorious August day, and she’s just so gorgeous. “Do me a favor, okay?”

Ben nods. “Anything for you.”

“You need to tell me if we’re taking things too quickly. I need you to be open and honest about how you’re feeling because you deserve it. You deserve the best.”

He smiles. “You, Leslie Knope, are the best.”

~

_September_

He’s pretty sure he’s in love.

“Isn’t it a little early to be looking at winter clothing?” Ben asks.

Because it’s officially the first day of autumn, and Leslie’s on a mission to stock up on hats, gloves, and coats. But the leaves are nowhere near changing colors, and the grass is greener than ever. It’s almost ninety degrees outside today. Sweat pools beneath the collar of his plaid shirt, and can someone please explain why he’s wearing jeans?

Leslie shakes her head. “It’s never to soon to be prepared,” she points out. “Besides, you, good sir, could use a few extra layers to throw over that boney, nice ass of yours.”

His eyebrows furrow slightly, but he smiles regardless.

It’s really really hard not to love Leslie Knope for everything that she is.

He’s never met anyone so driven or focused in his entire life. He’s constantly blown away by her intelligence, her passions, and her quirks. He doesn’t understand how this gorgeous lady wasn’t married years and years ago because, to be honest, he’d marry her in a heartbeat.

Whoa. Okay.

Like he said, he’s pretty sure he’s in love, and it’s the easily the sappiest he’s been in ages.

“But you do have a slight hoarding tendency, honey,” he states.

She giggles. “Take that back.” She pinches his arm; it’s ironically the same spot she always grabs ahold of, so there’s a purple bruise that he figures is permanent. “You don’t mean that, Wyatt.”

Ben kisses her forehead. It’s so hard for him to even rationalize that he comes home to this woman every single night, that he’s allowed to sleep in her bed and hold her hand. He wraps his arms around her, rubbing her waist in the middle of the department store. “Which color do you like best?” he questions, gesturing to the display of mittens in front of them.

He loves watching her eyes light up, like the world is opening itself directly for her. She’s so powerful and pretty and strong. “Ooh, I like the teal, but the maroon goes better with my coat.”

“Don’t you mean my coat?” he asks with a grin.

“What? Pshh. You make it sound like I steal your clothes or something.”

She so totally does. She’s been thieving his belongings since they first got together; he’s never once minded. His Letters to Cleo t-shirt might as well be hers now, along with a wide variety of flannels that she throws over her own clothing while lounging or working around the house. She pulls on his socks in the mornings and has recently taken a liking to his grey hoodie, despite the fact that it’s his older brother’s from years and years ago.

“I like these blue ones,” he says, handing them to her.

“But they don’t match anything.”

Ben shrugs. “They match your beautiful eyes.”

And, honestly, he doesn’t know how he ends up pushed against an endcap full of bobble hats, but it doesn’t really matter once her lips touch his.

~

_October_

He’s wearing a bright orange hand-knitted sweater with a Jack-O-Lantern’s face on it.

Leslie made it for him. Even though he's willing to admit it’s not quite his style, he shows it off proudly while silently thanking whoever’s up there for the opportunity to be in her presence. She’s adorable in her scarecrow costume, complete with a straw hat, burlap overalls, and his red flannel. She stands on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek every few seconds as they hold hands at the Harvest Festival. It’s Halloween night, and he’s here with her, and he’s never been more content.

She’s the best person he’s ever known. He’s never met anyone who’s able to pump him full of hope like her. She’s talented and brave and brings out the best in those around her. And being with her makes him wonder how he ever lasted seventeen years with Maggie. It’s very clear and obvious to him at this point that Leslie Knope’s the one he’s been waiting for his whole life.

He grins when she immediately sprints toward Ann. They chatter excitedly while Ben leans against the food stand, where staff hands out hot apple cider and kettle corn, taking in the chilly autumn air. A gust of wind sends shivers down his spine, but Leslie’s there. She rubs up and down his sweater-clad arm. He’s not even sure she knows she’s doing it. Even when she’s wrapped up tightly in her own world, she still thinks of him.

He’s sure her undying closeness with him is part of the reason why he’s now sleeping at least six hours every night.

Ben’s basically moved into her house, after all. No more listening to April and Andy fight about how much a dragon would actually cost (“half an Uber plus a Buzz Lightyear toy” is not a representation of money, but Andy definitely thinks it is). No more thinking and destroying himself piece by piece until there’s nothing left. He really thought losing Maggie ended him. He thought he was hopeless. He didn’t know he could ever find love again.

He imagined growing old and lonely.

But now he has Leslie.

“I’ll be right back!” Leslie announces.

And, yes, she is going crazy after three bags of extra sugary kettle corn.

“She’s like a toddler bouncing back from a nap,” Ann comments, sipping her cup of apple cider.

He agrees. “She’s going to be a nightmare tomorrow.”

They stand there in a comfortable silence for a few moments before Ann turns to face him.

“She really likes you,” she says quietly with a smile. “It’s nice to see her so happy.”

“I really like her too,” he tells her.

And then it hits him.

Really really hard.

His heart thumps, and his brain spins into overdrive.

Ben’s in the process of opening his mouth to respond, even though he truly doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say to Ann, when Leslie bounds into view, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“Let’s go ride the Ferris wheel!” she exclaims. “Bye, Ann!”

The entire wait in line for the ride makes Ben nauseous.

Because, by the time they sit down on the rickety seats he knows shouldn’t be rocking back and forth as much as they are, he’s about to explode.

So, naturally, the second the Ferris wheel starts to do its thing, he cracks.

“I love you,” he babbles out, gripping her hand tightly. “I love you so much, Leslie.”

There are unshed, happy tears in her eyes as she kisses him tenderly.

“I love you too, Ben.”

~

_November_

He’s never felt more alive than he does when he’s with Leslie.

“I love you,” he whispers, nuzzling her with his nose.

She giggles. “I love you, Mr. Wyatt.”

“I love you more, Ms. Knope.”

“Nope. That’s impossible because I love you the most.”

This is pretty much how their conversations go these days.

Since his admission on Halloween night, he can’t stop saying it. These three words are controlling his life in the best ways possible. Also, he can’t really help it. Leslie’s perfect and gorgeous, and he’s never been this happy. The type of happiness where he wakes up each morning without a headache and mirage of internal complaints was hard to come by because that’s just what he became accustomed to, but everything is so much different with her.

Leslie completes him. Leslie makes him want to reach above and beyond. Leslie fills him with hope.

He’s happy. For the first time in his life, he’s happy. After Ice Town, his world crumbled. His family practically disowned him. He began taking medication for depression and anxiety. He ran away to the other side of the state for college. He fell in love with a woman nearly three years older than him when he was eighteen. He kept himself in a toxic relationship he’s now positive never would’ve worked in a million years for almost two decades.

They tried so hard to have kids. Too hard. He made himself miserable trying to keep up with doctors’ appointments and sperm testings and countless physical exams. And then, when her pregnancy finally stuck for more than a couple weeks, their relationship shattered into a million tiny, unrecognizable pieces. She lost the baby, and he moved on just like she did.

He moved on. And that’s probably the most surprising thing to him of all.

Leslie’s truly irresistible. It was only a matter of time before he fell so swiftly in love with this passionate goofball of a woman.

“Was your birthday to your satisfaction, Benji?” she questions, hooking her leg around his.

He peppers kisses in her hairline. Her hair is beyond beautiful. “It was the best birthday ever.”

Ben was woken up at 4:37 in the morning (the exact time he was born thirty-six years ago) with a brightly wrapped gift and the biggest stack of blueberry pancakes in the universe. She let him sleep for a couple minutes after that, and then real fun started. Roller skate related fun (hey, as far as “things” go, it’s pretty innocuous). Sure, he has a few bruises here and there, but he doesn’t care. What he cares about is her willingness to make this the greatest birthday in the history of birthdays. She even made him a dark chocolate raspberry cake from scratch.

Last year, he caught Maggie cheating on him the day before his birthday.

This year, he got an entire day in bed with the most amazing woman in the galaxy.

What a difference a year makes.

“How about a nice, hot bubble bath?” he asks quietly, nipping at her neck.

Leslie runs her fingers through his hair. He shivers. “Whatever you want, birthday boy.”

~

_December_

He pushes their shopping cart through the crowded aisles in Target while Leslie pokes around for last minute gifts.

Usually, she’s neat and orderly and has presents picked out months (sometimes years) in advance, but she’s been a little preoccupied lately. It’s understandable. He’s been preoccupied too, but in amazingly wonderful ways. He officially moved out of April and Andy’s house on the first, and they’ve been spending as much time together as humanly possible. They live together and work together, and they’re so in sync they can finish each other’s sentences.

Okay, so maybe they rehearse the “finishing each other’s sentences” part at home naked in bed, but that’s just a minor, unrelated detail.

People bump shoulders with him constantly, and Leslie acts like a tiny buffer between him and the crowd. He’s so thankful for her. He has this thing about germs (and people) that’s been there in the back of his mind his entire life, and she knows that. She picks up on what bothers him and makes him happy and how to make him feel better. Has he mentioned that she’s perfect?

Because she totally and definitely is.

Literally every inch of this store is crammed with frantic, last minute customers, and he tries very hard to breathe through it all.

“It’s okay,” Leslie whispers, squeezing his hand gently. “We’re almost done.”

He nods and rubs the back of his neck.

She’s leaning over to kiss his cheek when he spies her.

Ben gulps and immediately averts eye contact.

And she just keeps getting closer and closer.

When she gets nearer to his vicinity, Ben shoves his hands in his coat pocket. Studies the desperate, sad look etched on to her face like it’s been there for centuries. Except he knows it hasn’t been. It’s a product of whatever bold and dramatic statement she’s about to make. He’s seen it a billion times. It’s part of her game, the act she tries so diligently to keep going when things aren’t going her way.

“Hi, Ben!” Maggie says.

She leans in for a hug, but he takes a step back instead.

They’re divorced. Have been for almost four months. There’s no room for hugging in this equation anymore.

“Hi,” he says back, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Okay, I’m gonna cut to the chase here,” Maggie starts. Tears swell in her eyes, and Ben bites his lower lip, eager to run away. “I miss you, Ben. Really really miss you. I think about you all the time. I think about our baby all the time. I know things ended on a bad note, but I... I want to give this another try. I can’t just... not be with you. We’ve been together since we were in college. There’s so much history. I know I’m not the perfect wife by any means, but... I miss you. I miss us. I miss what we had.”

No.

No way.

Leslie stands there awkwardly, and he can’t take this.

He needs to get out of here.

And he doesn’t even know where to begin with Maggie right now.

All he wants to do is go home with Leslie.

“Come on, Les,” he whispers. “Let’s go.”

He’s turning the cart around when Maggie starts again. “Ben, please. Don’t you miss me? You have a life with me. Not with her.”

Ben doesn’t miss her. Not even a little bit.

But his heart plummets to his toes.

His mouth goes dry.

His mind alternates rapidly between wanting to tell her off and never speak again.

Because this... This is what he got away from. He doesn’t ever want to go back.

“He doesn’t miss you, okay?” Leslie spits back harshly. “He doesn’t want anything to do with you.”

Maggie’s eyes narrow. “And who exactly are you? His personal representative?”

“No. I’m his girlfriend.”

She nods. “Sure. Yeah. Okay. Let’s go with that. Ben, why don’t we talk for a little bit? We can grab a coffee. My treat.”

He’s in the process of shaking his head when Leslie speaks again.

“Are you deaf? He isn’t interested.”

“Why don’t you let him tell me that instead?” Maggie asks before looking directly at him. “What? Are you gonna let her fight your battles like that?” She shoulders her purse. “You know what? Forget it. You’re the same spineless loser you’ve always been.”

She whisks away as quickly as she arrived.

“Wow,” he hears Leslie mutter from beside him. “Thanks for having my back.”

“Leslie, I –”

“Save it, Ben.”

“No, please. Don’t do this,” he pleads.

She glares at him. “Are you really going to let her walk all over you like that?”

Ben rubs his forehead and swallows thickly. Shuffles his feet. Wants nothing more than to hide in a dark corner until everything is resolved.

Except nothing, he realizes, can ever be resolved until he stands up and actually starts talking.

He’s trying to wrap his brain around what to say when it becomes obvious Leslie’s having none of it.

“Let’s just go,” she says defeatedly.

“Babe, I – ”

“Forget it. It’s fine.”

Except it’s anything but fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! :)


	3. Everyday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is extremely hot off the press and un-betaed because I haven't written anything in over a month and got too excited to post this. Thank you so much to BenjisCoolTimes and SakuraBlossomStorm for the unwavering support!

_December_

He’s a jellyfish.

A spineless, stupid, senseless, selfish jellyfish.

How could he let Maggie waltz back into his life like she owns it and berate Leslie? How could he stand there and do literally nothing? And, now, Leslie huffs, and her eyes are clouded with disgust, and she looks cold. Ben wants to reach over and zip her up in her sexy red coat, to nestle some warmth back into her bones after a taxing afternoon of last minute Christmas shopping. He wants to tuck that adorable curl behind her ear and lift her chin to kiss her. He wants to go home, wrap her up in his arms, and cuddle the evening away, allowing silence to fill the void.

But this isn’t about what he wants.

At this point, he’ll do just about anything to make her feel better.

Which is exactly why he exhales the moment they get into the Saturn. The air’s thick with cinnamon and regret. Pine and remorse. And something else. His dignity? Oh yeah. That. That’s somewhere else, far far away from here. Ben scrubs his hands down the sides of his face and stops when his freezing fingertips brush over his lips. Leslie. Her tiny, perfect hand rests on his thigh, and he gulps. Stops. Pauses. Takes this moment to reflect on his jellyfish ways.

Leslie. He should’ve defended her.

But Maggie’s a bit of a snake. She slithers in, makes her attack, and then leaves a whirlwind of conflicting emotions in the wake of her destruction. But he doesn’t want to think about Maggie. What he wants to think about is how Leslie is trying to comfort him again. How Leslie is reaching out to him again. How Leslie will do anything and everything in this world to make him feel like an actual person again. She doesn’t deserve this.

He doesn’t deserve someone as wonderful, as beautiful as Leslie Knope.

“Ben...” she tries, but he just hangs his head.

He shakes his head. “Don’t. Please don’t.”

“But –”

“No, Leslie,” he says. “I screwed up back there, okay? And I know you want to protect me and to make me feel better, but... I fucked up.”

He should’ve been there. He should’ve been there for her.

Ben’s taken the falls a countless amount of times with Maggie. When they were in college, she got alcohol poisoning after an end of finals celebration, and Ben was the one who got the silent treatment for three weeks because he let it happen to her. Because, apparently, he didn’t try to stop her. When they moved to Indianapolis after Ben graduated, Maggie got into a car accident because he didn’t take the SUV in to get looked at like he said he would. Because he would rather her wreck their vehicle than help. When they couldn’t get pregnant, every seemingly insignificant detail of their trials fell onto his shoulders, and, yes, eventually he just started taking it.

He rolled with the punches and didn’t bother uttering another word about it.

But he doesn’t want to be like that with Leslie.

He wants her to know that he’s always here for her, that he’ll do whatever he can to make things right. And this, what happened today, so isn’t right. Not even in the slightest. Maggie came barging back in like she always does, and she doesn’t get to treat Leslie that way. Leslie means more than the galaxy to Ben. Leslie is everything to Ben.

“Look,” Leslie whispers. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

Ben glares at her. “No. Don’t say that. I know you think I’m some fragile, little butterfly, but I’m not stupid.”

“I don’t think you’re a butterfly, Ben,” she breathes out. “You’ve been going through a lot recently, and it was wrong of me to get mad at you when I know how badly she treated you.”

“I haven’t been going through anything, Leslie!” he exclaims. “These last few months with you have been the best months of my entire life. I feel alive when I’m with you. Like I can finally breathe. I never felt that way with her. And just knowing that I can’t step up and confront her when she’s a jerk to you freaking kills me.”

He breaks eye contact. Looks at his hands clenching around the steering wheel instead. Wills his body to stop trembling so hard.

But Leslie, the most gorgeous woman in the universe, places her left hand over his right, soothing over his ghost white knuckles with her thumb.

She sighs. “I am mad at you,” she says quietly. “But that doesn’t mean I want you to beat yourself up over this.”

Ben huffs. “I deserve it.”

“Stop. Don’t do that.”

Fuck. She’s right.

She’s always right.

“And it’s okay for me to be mad you,” Leslie tells him. “I mean, you’re so thoughtful and respectful and devoted and all, but you really suck at confrontations.”

He grins just a little bit. “I’m very sucky at that. But I’ll be better next time.”

“I want you to be better for you too, y’know? Not just me.”

Ben nods. “I know. But you... You’re so amazing, okay? You should never feel that way ever again.”

He kisses the back of her hand, and she smiles.

~

_January_

He’s still reeling from it, to be honest.

That December day etches itself into his memory and attaches to his brainstem, promising to never let him forget when he let Leslie down. How he let Leslie down. What he was wearing when he let Leslie down. What time it was when he let Leslie down. They get through Christmas and New Years without a hitch, but Ben doesn’t let go. He won’t let go how badly he hurt her, how disappointed in him she was.

But the show must go on, even if his head hurts, and he feels himself slipping into human disaster mode.

Today’s Leslie’s birthday, and they’re celebrating with an evening out, followed by sharing his famous triple chocolate cake (with rainbow sprinkles in the batter because Leslie’s requests are too cute to ignore) and lots of white wine. But his fingers shake as he tries to locate the tie he set out specifically for this, and his stomach is more than slightly off. She’s in the bathroom, and he tries to focus on the hairdryer blowing in the background instead of his urge to toss his cookies.

He collapses on their bed in just his white undershirt, plaid boxers, and black socks. He buries his head in his hands.

Stop. He needs this to stop. He doesn’t know why he’s still worrying about what happened over a month ago.

Leslie knows he’s there for her. Leslie knows he’ll do anything in his power to stand up for her from now on.

But what if it’s all a lie?

What if she pities him because of the divorce? What if he’s just a giant asshole who will never fully get behind her? What if this isn’t real?

Okay, stop. Now he knows he’s being ridiculous. To think that this is just some elaborate hoax to get back at him for being a coward is nuts.

But his body and his mind are on two completely opposite sides of the playing field.

“Hey, you okay?” he hears Leslie ask, but it’s mostly mush to his ears. “What’s going on?”

Ben feels the mattress dip and her presence beside him. Feels her rub his back and card her fingers through his hair. Feels her eventually pull him into a hug that snaps him out of his trance. He lets out a shaky breath and hides his face in her neck. Doesn’t know what’s wrong with him. Doesn’t know why he can’t hold it together for more than a few seconds at a time.

Doesn’t know what he did to deserve her.

“Ben,” she whispers. “You’re okay.”

How can she say that? How can she just accept him with open arms and let him back into her life like this?

He let her down. He didn’t stand up for her. He let Maggie walk all over them both.

“You need to talk about it. You need to let me in.”

It’s a problem. He knows that. He’s spent the better part of ten years in his own head, trying to convince himself that the world isn’t falling apart around him. But he’s divorced now. He lost everything and then somehow gained even more back when he met Leslie. His life isn’t horrible; it never has been. It’s just... he doesn’t even know what’s an appropriate emotion or feeling anymore because it isn’t being crammed down his throat.

Good lord. It’s her birthday. It’s her fucking birthday. Pull it together.

“I-I’m sorry,” he manages to grate out. He tries to ignore his tears dribbling down her skin. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Ben. But you gotta open up and talk to me. You can’t stay in your head forever.”

She’s always so nice to him. She’s such a sweetheart.

“I l-let you down. I let everyone down.”

And, after thirty-six years of holding in every single emotion, Ben Wyatt finally lets himself shatter into a million pieces.

~

_February_

He isn’t down long.

Really, though, it’s incredibly hard to stay down when Leslie Knope is around. She lights up any room when she walks in. She lights up the world with her smile. She lights up everything around him.

It isn’t a dramatic transformation. It isn’t anything, actually. It’s just... him realizing he needs to let go of his past to embrace his future. With her. It isn’t fair for him to live in the past, to think about what man he could’ve been versus the man he can be. And it certainly isn’t fair to Leslie for him to sulk around and not try to better himself. So, he’s putting himself out there. He’s trying not to dwell on things and open up. He’s trying to talk it out as opposed to clam up.

After that long, exhausting night on Leslie’s birthday, Ben vowed to her that he’d change. He’ll make himself a better man for both of them. He’ll stand up for her. He’ll stand up for himself. And he’ll stop taking the punches he doesn’t deserve.

Like he said, it isn’t dramatic.

What is dramatic, though, is how much his love for Leslie grows with each passing second. He’s sure he’ll explode, drunk on her adoration and pretty blue eyes and passions from everything to pockets to government to him. He isn’t even sure how it’s possible for someone so vivacious and lively and beautiful to be on this earth. She’s just perfect in every conceivable way.

“Why aren’t you ready yet?” she asks, banging on the bathroom door with her usual abundance of energy. “I wanna see your new look!”

He breaks out of his thoughts and chuckles. “Almost done, babydoll.”

This also isn’t anything dramatic. Leslie bought him new pajamas, and he guesses she just really wants him to model them for her? He isn’t sure what the plan is, but he’ll do whatever he can to make her happy, to make her smile. Her smile means everything to him.

Ben runs a hand through his hair before exiting the bathroom with his work clothes wadded in a ball under his arm. “Well?”

“Awwww!” she screeches, and, yeah, that sounds about right. After all, it’s not like he’s walking out here in a new suit or naked or something like that. Nope, he’s just adorned in blue pants with tiny cartoon Stitches everywhere, combined with Stitch socks and a long sleeved shirt with Stitch’s face expanding across his middle. “And I was right! It looks great with your beard!”

She giggles uncontrollably as he playfully pushes her on to the mattress, blowing raspberries on her neck and tickling her sides.

“You’re so perfect,” he whispers, nipping her ear.

Leslie tugs him closer. “No, you’re the perfect one.”

Ben smiles and stops lifting up her (his) t-shirt to kiss her adorable nose. “No arguments, Knope.”

He kisses her. Soft and slow and hard and fast all at once. His heart pounds relentlessly in his chest. Goosebumps form on his arms.

God, she’s so fucking perfect. So sweet and understanding and smart and beautiful.

“I love you so much, Leslie,” he whispers.

She moans and grips at a tuft of his hair. “Just make out with me already.”

“You got it.”

~

_March_

He makes her breakfast every Sunday.

Sometimes, it’s hard, considering he has to wake up around five to even stand a chance at beating her to the coffee maker. But it’s a snowy, gross, and gloomy morning, which seems to be doing him some favors because the waffles batter is already done. He glances at the clock to discover it’s a little past 6:30, and he yawns.

He yawns just in time to be greeted with a mouthful of gorgeous blond hair. “Good morning,” he says quietly, wrapping her up in his arms and rubbing her back.

“Morning,” she says back, kissing his neck. She lets one of her hands slide beneath his the waist of his sweatpants to rest playfully on his butt. She squeezes every now and then and cackles.

It’s moments like these that make him grin from ear to ear. Not everyone gets to wake up next to the love of his or her life, after all. Ben doesn’t come from the best family life. His parents divorced when he was young, and he spent his time being thrust in the middle every second of everyday. He grew into this pessimistic, too realistic nature by force, and he rode with it for thirty-five years. But these next thirty-five years will be different.

And he’s going to spend them with Leslie Knope by his side.

“Did you sleep well?” he questions right at the same time she speaks.

“I got an offer to run for City Council,” she breathes out.

Ben pulls back from her grasp a little bit. “What?”

She looks at him sheepishly and nods. “A campaign team wants me to run for City Council. They think I have a good shot at winning.”

And Ben immediately smiles (it’s easily his biggest smile in the history of his existence). “That’s amazing, Leslie! I’m so happy for you!”

But, instead of bursting at the seams with glee, she palms his chest and glances down. “It is pretty great news,” she tells him.

His eyebrows furrow. “What’s wrong, love?”

She shrugs and still doesn’t make eye contact. “What if... What if I’m not ready?”

Ben pulls her closer, encircling her in his arms all over again. This isn’t like her. This isn’t like her to be so unsure of herself. Leslie’s amazing. Leslie’s perfect. Leslie can and will do anything she sets her mind to. “You’re so much more than ready, Les,” he whispers, kissing her neck. “You’ve wanted to run for City Council for years. I’ve seen your binders, and every single plan is perfect. There isn’t anyone that is more qualified and right for this job than you.”

“But what about –”

Ben instantly cuts her off. “None of that, babe. No negativity. You are so smart and talented. You could knock out this campaign in your very limited sleep,” he says, and she clings on to his every word. “And I will be here to help and support you every step of the way. Leslie, I am so ridiculously proud of you. You deserve this, okay? Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

~

_April_

He soaks up all the time in the world with her.

Now that he runs her campaign, everything falls into place. They rehearse her speeches at home naked in bed, and they talk strategy over waffles and three cans of whipped cream. They take bubble baths while discussing, ultimately, what she hopes to change about Pawnee. They watch movies, only to pause it when one of them, usually her, thinks of brilliant ideas. But it’s so much more intimate than simply discussing the campaign.

They’re just... so in sync. And she makes him so happy.

He can finally sleep. He can finally move on with his life.

But Leslie is so tired. She’s working herself to the bone, and that’s just not going to fly with him.

“I think we should set the animals in the zoo free,” Leslie says randomly, which causes Ben to stop from turning off the bedside lamp.

He bites his lower lip. “Um, I’m sorry; run that by me again.”

Leslie sits up straighter, and Ben wraps his arm around her. She nestles herself against him and yawns. “The animals at the zoo,” she says. “We should set them free. I mean, I love the zoo as much as the next gal, but think about it. They spend their lives in these fake habitats with people staring at them all hours of the day.”

He nods because it makes sense. But he also nods because Leslie just needs to rest. However, though, even she has to admit she’s making a good point right now, and he’s feeling oddly passionate about it.

Somehow, the conversation morphs into what happens when they let the animals go. Ben thinks the lions might actually eat someone, while Leslie’s more optimistic. She wants to throw each set of species an appropriately themed party and decorate the entire zoo before finally setting them free. Ben thinks that having a big celebration might be a way to make said lions bypass eating the two of them, but they might lash out at the other animals.

It’s a work in progress.

“So what kind of cake should we make for the lions?” Leslie questions. “Since that’s what you seem to be worried about the most.”

Ben shrugs, pulling the comforter up to their chests. She yawns again, and he shivers. “Maybe, like, an antelope cake or something?” he suggests. “I don’t think chocolate or yellow or confetti cake would do the trick. They need something... fleshier.” He hates that word and grimaces as it rolls off his tongue, but Leslie, as per her usual, takes this in stride.

Has he mentioned that he loves her? Because he definitely does.

“Ooh, that’s a good idea! Maybe we could even b–”

But Ben cuts her off. “Honey, go to sleep. You’re gonna be exhausted later.”

She shrugs. “I don’t need sleep, dear sir. I do-ith fine without it.”

“You actually do need sleep. Come here,” he says, slouching against the pillows before gently tugging her to where her head is on his chest.

She yawns. “Okay, you’re probably right.”

Ben clicks off his lamp. “Sleep tight, babydoll.”

“You sleep tight...” she mumbles against his shirt. “Tell your butt I said ‘night...”

He plants tiny kisses in her gorgeous hair and lets his eyes droop closed.

~

_May_

He’s loopy...

And maybe even a little high?

He can’t tell.

Life is so mysterious.

He swears he was just at Leslie’s press junket at Ramsett Park, like, three point two seconds ago, but now he’s... in this place with bright lights.

There’s a thingy poking out of his arm, and there’s another thingy covering his index finger.

There are thingies everywhere, actually.

“Oh, wow.” Leslie! His beautiful Leslie. “You’re still pretty out of it, aren’t you?”

Ben nods. “I missed you... Where did you go? You were gone for, like, a thousand centuries...” And he immediately grabs ahold of her hand, kissing the back of it sloppily.

“I went to call my mom and use the bathroom, honey,” she says softly. “Why don’t you try to take a nap?”

He shakes his head. “Pssshh... Naps are for squares. It’s all goody-goody. ‘m not even tired,” he proclaims proudly. “Do you have any pudding? Pudding cups are so weird... Life is so weird, Leslie. One minute, you don’t have a thingamabob stuck in your penis, and, then, the next minute, you do. Life is crazy...” he rambles. “We should start milking cows. ‘s good for the environment...”

“Milking cows is good for the environment?” she questions, rubbing circles on his hand.

He loves her. She’s always here for him.

“Uh huh,” he tells her. “Hey, get your pretty little butt over here.” She’s kind of blurry, but Ben spies blond hair and hesitation. He pats the mattress and giggles. “You’re so pretty, Leslie...”

She takes a seat, and he snuggles his head on to her shoulder, placing kisses on her neck.

“Are you doing okay, love?” he hears Leslie question.

Beautiful. She’s so beautiful. Like the sun. His penis feels funny. But he sort of wants candy.

“You’re such a good cuddler. The best...”

“You’re a great cuddler too, Ben. I love you.”

“I love you!” he says proudly.

“Shh... Get some sleep, okay?”

Her fingers rubbing his thigh tickles.

Ben sits up regardless. “Noooo... Leslie, I really really love you. Like... more than Star Wars.”

The room is super spinny, but the chair’s right there. It’s right there.

But Leslie stops him.

“Whoa. Uh uh. You’re not up for walking yet, pal. What do you need?”

“Pants. It’s in my pants.”

“What’s in your pants, sweetheart?”

Ben glances over at her and grins. “The ring,” he states.

He tries to move again, to maneuver himself to that chair. That chair will fix all of his problems. He wants Leslie in his life forever and ever. He wants to feel her hand in his until the end of time. He wants to get married and own a chocolate fountain and buy a house and have kids and travel the world and adopt a moose named Calvin and set the zoo animals free.

“The ring?” he hears. “What ring?”

He tries very hard to reach his pants from here, but Leslie gets up instead and sets the khakis in his lap. He fumbles around until he reaches the box.

“What’re you doing?” she asks, and he hears her sniffle.

“Hey, don’t cry, beautiful snugger-doodle,” he says. “I love you. I want to marry you.”

“Is this for real?”

He nods, and she wraps her arms around him. “It’s very real,” he reassures. “You’re so beautiful, Leslie. Such a pretty pretty Leslie.”

“I love you so much, Benjamin.”

He grins. “I love you, baby smurf. More than anything.”

~

_June_

They’re getting married.

Yes, he knows it’s hard to believe that anyone would want to marry him after his morphine-induced, never ending hippy-isms, but they’re totally getting married. Once he finally came back around, he proposed for real. He was still in a hospital gown with an ungodly amount of pain medication floating through his system, but he thinks it was a little bit better nonetheless.

And now his fiancé’s literally screaming about their upcoming marriage from the rooftops, and Ben can’t be any happier.

Seriously. It isn’t possible for him to be any happier than he is at this moment. Leslie’s up in the polls and well on her way to being Pawnee’s newest City Councilwoman. He’s running her campaign and helping her achieve an important, precious goal. And they’re doing it together.

He no longer worries. He doesn’t worry about Maggie and the way his life used to be. He doesn’t worry about his family or Ice Town or what people say about him behind closed doors. No. If anything, the only thing he worries about is Leslie and making sure he’s everything she needs him to be. But he knows she’s happy, and he’s never been happier in his entire life.

It’s only 7:15 in the morning, but it’s proving to be a scorcher outside already. Ben fans himself with the newspaper, even though they’re both sitting inside a local coffee shop and waiting for their drinks. He chooses an iced coffee, while she pretends she’s not about ready to chug her second mocha Frappuccino of the day. She’s so cute, especially with her chocolate obsession.

Leslie rubs the ring and beams at him, and he softly kisses the back of her hand.

The barista calls their names, but Ben gets up alone. Just as he’s grabbing their orders, he notices a familiar face.

And said familiar face notices him right back.

“Ben!” Maggie exclaims. “How are you?”

She goes in for a hug, but he steps away, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m good,” he says, trying his best to just get through this without any hiccups. Maybe if he’s polite, she’ll go away. “How are you?”

Maggie’s about to answer when his gorgeous fiancé joins him. She entangles their fingers, and he immediately feels like he can take on the world.

“Well, y’know, it’s been tough, but I see you still clearly aren’t have any issues with the divorce. Is this the same one from before, or have you finally been experimenting?”

Seriously. What the fuck is wrong with this woman? And how the fuck was he married to her for seventeen years?

Old Ben must’ve been a dumbass.

But New Ben isn’t having any of this.

“Don’t you miss me, Ben?” she goes on. “Don’t you miss what we had?”

Good lord, it’s like the Target fiasco all over again.

“I don’t miss you,” Ben tells Maggie simply. “Actually, my life is so much better without you in it.”

Ben feels Leslie rub her thumb over his knuckles.

“Right, like that’s possible. So,” Maggie says, looking directly at Leslie. “Have you reached the panic attack phase yet? Or the nightmares?”

Uh oh. He feels Leslie’s grip tighten, and he knows what’s about to happen.

“That isn’t happening anymore,” Ben says. “We’re doing great.”

“So great he hasn’t asked you to marry him yet, right? You’ll be waiting for that for centuries.”

Leslie instantly holds out her left hand, showing off the ring and beaming proudly. “We’re getting married in October.”

Maggie’s eyes widen at that, and Ben hands Leslie her Frappuccino.

“It was nice talking to you,” Ben says to Maggie, before placing his arm around Leslie’s shoulders.

~

_July_

They’re hosting a Fourth of July party.

Even after everything he’s been through and all the changes he’s made, Ben still isn’t big on parties. He still isn’t big on too many people or germs. But what he is big on is Leslie Knope in every way imaginable. He’s marrying this wonderful woman in three and a half months, and he’s never been more excited for anything in the world. If she’s ecstatic about this party, he will be too because all he ever wants is to see her happy.

She’s near the end of her City Council campaign. She deserves a break. So, he doesn’t complain when she wakes him up a quarter past five in the morning to decorate, and he definitely doesn’t complain when he runs out to different stores in Pawnee six times before the clock strikes ten. He’ll do anything to see that cute, adorable, sexy smile.

“Do we have sunscreen?” Leslie questions as she enters the kitchen, where Ben’s counting bags of chips and two liters of soda. “You’ll turn into Larry the Lobster if you go out there without any.”

He grins. “Why do your SpongeBob references turn me on?” he asks as he tugs her close.

She cackles. “Because you’re in loooove with me.”

Ben kisses her gently. “Very in love with you.”

He’s in the process of lifting her up on the counter when the doorbell rings.

Leslie moans. “I thought I said four? It’s not even two yet!”

“No, remember, you changed the invitations to two a few days ago.”

“I’m an idiot,” she murmurs as Ben helps her down. “We’ll finish this later.”

~

_August_

They’re getting ready for bed.

It’s such a mundane, boring thing that people do every single night, but Leslie always makes things exciting. She brings him never-ending joy and laughs. She brings him true bliss. She turns the rainiest of days into the brightest of occasions and never fails to make him smile, even on his bad days. Today hasn’t been a good one, filled to the brim with panic and nerves, but she soothed him and gave him a back massage and listened to him ramble the hours away.

He’ll never understand how someone as perfect as her exists.

She jumps on to the mattress wearing nothing but a peach colored tank top and lacy black underwear, and Ben grins from where he’s bundled up.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers.

“You’ve mentioned that before,” she giggles. She slides under the comforter and tangles their bare legs together. “We’re getting married.”

At that, he smiles even harder. “You’ve also mentioned that before.”

“Do you still feel weird?”

“Weird?” he questions.

“You’ve mentioned before that you feel weird about getting married again, but I’ve never heard you say it since we got engaged.”

Ben’s heart slams into his chest, but he finds a way to inch closer to Leslie. “I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than to marry you.”

She nods, and he kisses her slowly.

~

_September_

They’re celebrating at JJ’s. Just the two of them.

Leslie won.

Leslie won her spot on Pawnee’s City Council.

Ben never ever ever doubted that she would win. She’s Leslie Knope. She can and will do anything she sets her mind to.

“I’m so excited!” she squeaks.

He nods. “I’m very happy for you.”

“I’m sorry I woke you up for victory waffles.”

Ben grins and kisses the tip of her nose. “This is perfect, okay? I love me some victory waffles.”

“You’re a nerd,” she tells him, taking his hand in hers. “But you’re the world’s most perfect nerd.”

“Why, thank you, babydoll. Would you like some more whipped cream?”

“Yes please.” She cackles when he piles her waffles high with the delicacy. “I love you, and I like you.”

“I love you, and I like you,” he whispers.

~

_October_

They’re getting ready to go on an adventure of a lifetime together.

Leslie’s hands are in his, and tears cloud his vision. She’s so perfect. Her touch is electric. Her smile brings air back into his lungs. Her voice fills him with unbridled happiness.

“In my time working for the state government, my job sent me to forty-six cities in eleven years. I lived in villages with eight people, rural farming communities, college towns. I was sent to every corner of Indiana. And then I came here. And I realized that, this whole time, I was just wandering around everywhere, just looking for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! :)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the first part! Don't worry; there will be so much more of Ben and Leslie to come!


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